Visitor
by RemyTheReaper
Summary: You can’t figure out why she’s here, talking to you. You’d think that if something were wrong, you’d be the last person she’d want to see." No pairing. Rated T to be safe.


**A/N: This is just something sort of strange that popped into my head the other day and I decided to write it. It takes place after the season finale.**

When the nurse comes in and tells you that there's someone there to see you, you figure it's Wilson . Actually, you're hoping it is, since he's supposed to bring you a Rueben. You tell the nurse to let them in and he nods, leaving. A moment later _she _walks in, and you frown. Definitely not Wilson . She sits across from you, and doesn't say anything for a moment.

"What are you doing here?" You ask finally and she offers a dry laugh,

"I'm not allowed to come visit you?"

You don't bother answering her, you just ask, "Where's Foreman?"

She shrugs passively, looking around the room,

"Pretty drab color scheme."

You glance at the grey walls and nod, "Yeah, painter was color-blind. Really, not a good career choice on his part."

She smirks, "I see you haven't changed at all."

"But you have."

She stares at you now, though her face remains blank. She doesn't say anything for a moment, then looks down at her hands again, "Things have changed, I haven't."

There's a long pause between the two of you, and you're beginning to think that something isn't right with her. Still, you can't figure out why she's here, talking to you. You'd think that if something were wrong, you'd be the last person she'd want to see.

"What are you doing here?" You ask again. She shrugs, not looking up.

"I wanted to see you."

"Why"

"I'm…" she pauses, grasping for the words, then manages, "not going to be around very long."

You frown, "Working today?"

She gives you a strange look then seems to understand, "No, I mean…I just have to go somewhere, but I wanted to stop in and visit first."

Another moment of silence, and then you ask, "What's Cuddy got you doing without me around?"

She fidgets, playing with her hands, twisting a ring on one of her fingers, and then,

"Hasn't Wilson told you?"

You shrug, watching her intently, "I'm asking you."

She hesitates, then, "Taub works down in the E.R. with Cameron now, since he signed that non-compete with his old partners and can't work in surgery. Foreman is working in neurology."

"And you?"

"I was doing an oncology fellowship with Wilson ."

"You were?"

"I told you," she says quietly, "I have to go somewhere."

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know."

"How long are you going to be gone?"

She looks up at you, "I don't know."  
You feel an eerie sense of dread as tears form in her eyes, slipping down her cheeks. Why is she here? What does she want?  
"House."

You snap out of your thoughts, watching as she moves her arms away from where they had been resting against her stomach. There's blood. It's soaking through her sweater, staining the pale skin on her arms. Some part of you thinks that you should call someone in, get her help, but then you look at her face and know it's too late for that. She's beyond that kind of help now. You stand up and walk over to her, putting a hand on her cheek.

"Thirteen."  
She looks up at you, sobbing, and you see that her face is bruised and swollen.

"What happened to you?" You ask her.

"I don't know…I'm scared."

You stare at her, shaking beneath your hand. There are more bruises, on her arms and neck. She's looking up at you, her eyes pleading you to help her, save her. But you can't, she knows you can't.

"Remy."

You both turn to the voice. It's Kutner, standing in the doorway. He doesn't look at you, only at Thirteen.

"It's time to go."

She nods solemnly and Kutner steps out again, shutting the door. You look back down at her and she rises shakily to her feet.

"I'm sorry." She says, not looking at you. You don't say anything, there's nothing to say. She turns and walks to the door, stopping when her hand is on the doorknob and turning to look at you once more.

"Goodbye, House."

You nod to her and she opens the door, stepping out and shutting it behind her.

There's a moment where you stand staring at the old wooden door, as if expecting it to open again, bringing her back. But she's gone, you know she is. You go back, sitting down at the table once more, dropping your head into your hands. What happened? What happened to her?

The door opens.

"Dr. House?"

It's the nurse.

"Dr. House, you have a visitor."

You stare at him for a moment, blank, confused. Then you nod and the nurse leaves, going to get your visitor. It's Wilson this time. He comes in, sitting in the seat Thirteen occupied just moments before and places a wrapped sandwich on the table,

"I brought you your Reuben, no pickles." He tells you, pushing the bundle across the table. You ignore him, pushing the sandwich away,

"What happened to Thirteen?"

Wilson stares at you, confused,

"You mean Dr. Hadley? Nothing…why?"

"I need to see her."

Wilson frowns, studying your face for a clue as to what's going on, but you don't give him anything to go on.

"House," he says finally, "What did you see?"

"I need to see Thirteen."

Wilson stares. After a long pause, he pulls his cell phone out of his pocket, hitting a few buttons before holding it up to his ear.

"I'll be right back," he tells you before stepping out of the room. You can hear him just beyond the door, talking on his phone. He's got Thirteen on the line, he's telling her she needs to come. He's telling her that something is wrong with you.

You don't look at him when he comes back into the room. You're staring at the Rueben. There's probably pickles in it, they always put pickles in it.

"She's on her way." Wilson announces, sitting down again. He follows your gaze to the sandwich, "There's no pickles House, I watched them make it."

"There's always pickles."

"I promise you, there are no pickles."

You don't pursue the argument past that and there is an uncomfortable silence. Finally, Wilson sits forward in his seat, leaning towards you.

"House...why do you need to see Thirteen?"

"What happened to _Dr. Hadley_?"

"Stop deflecting, what did you see?"

"Nothing."

"House."

"I SAID I DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING"

You slam your fist on the table, staring across at Wilson. He looks shocked, then runs a hand through his hair and nods,

"Alright."

You look away from him, from his stupid sympathetic eyes. You don't look up at them again for the next half hour, until his phone begins to ring. He picks up the phone and listens for a moment, then says, "I'll be right out," and hangs up his phone. He stands up,

"Thirteen is outside, I'll be right back."

You nod and watch him leave, listening to his footsteps on the concrete floor. It takes a few minutes, but then you hear them returning, only now there's a second set of footsteps. They both stop outside the door and you hear Wilson's voice again, warning her that you're not acting like yourself today. You wonder if he knows the doors are so thin, and then the door opens and you don't care anymore.

She's walked in behind Wilson and stands awkwardly by the doorway, not sure what to do or say. You grab your cane and walk over, standing in front of her. There are no bruises, no blood. You grab her face like you did before, staring into her eyes. She tenses, looking nervous and confused, but not like she did before. She's not crying, there's no fear in her eyes. But you saw her before, hurt, scared. She was there, you saw her, touched her, heard her. She was there. She was real.

"House."

Her voice is soft, but strong. It's different from before, it's more real. You realize that her face feels different too, more solid. Even her eyes seem to be different, though you can't figure out how. And then it hits you all at once that she was never hurt, that she was never there. You drop your hand from her cheek and take a step away from her, your mind reeling.

"House, you okay?" Wilson asks, starting to look concerned. You don't answer right away, but look up at Thirteen. She's staring back at you, confused. Your hand tightens around your cane, and you look down,

"No."

**A/N: Ta-da! So, reviews are really really awesome, and I would really appriciate some of them! Also, I've posted a list of my upcoming summer projects in my profile if anyone is interested.**

**-Remy**


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